In Washington, political intrigue often serves as a substitute for oxygen.

Little surprise then, that the corridors of power were packed with people desperate for a seat to the hottest ticket in (this) town - the Senate appearance of James Comey.

Hundreds of mostly millennials, congressional staffers and interns, weaved around the hallways of the Senate's Hart building hoping to witness the former FBI director's testimony first hand.

The last time I'd seen a queue like this was when I walked past the line for a free One Direction concert in Los Angeles.

But unlike Hollywood, where the endings are annoyingly predictable, the unexpected plot twists in Washington politics made this a must-see moment.

What would James Comey say? What would this mean for President Trump? Is this going to be better than the new series of House of Cards?

Rebecca was one of the many congressional interns I'd met waiting to get in. The last time she'd queued this long for anything was to see a Harry Potter movie.

Judging by her place in line she had little chance of seeing it anywhere but on a television screen, even though she'd been here since 6am.

Others, like Senate staffers Samantha, Mitchell and Ben, who arrived at the Hart building at 4.15am and entered at 5am, secured prime touchline seats.

"It's history in the making. It will be good to get some clarity on what's happening," Samantha told me, adding that she didn't trust Trump or Comey.

Image copyrightBBC/RajiniVaidyanathanImage caption
Many of those queuing to see James Comey's testimony were young Senate staffers

Room 216 has played host to dramatic moments of political theatre in its time, but nothing like this in living memory.

In front of the public seats in the wood-panelled room were rows of media tables. Ahead of that, seating for VIPs - although quite remarkably these, the best seats in the house, were not all filled. Almost an entire row was empty.

James Comey was to field questions seated at a table with his back to us spectators, as he faced the interrogating senators head-on. A place setting marking his name read "Director Comey".

In the moments before his arrival, the anticipation built up. I spotted reporters taking selfies in front of Mr Comey's table, as photographers with huge cameras jostled for space nearby.

Veteran New York Times photographer Doug Mills, who is no stranger to documenting historic moments, told me the stress level for everybody was "amped up".

"You never know what's going to happen," he said, "it could be enlightening, it could be a bore."